


Cocoa With Vodka

by Jayden und Verwelkt (SailorVFan10)



Series: For We Are the Beautiful Thieves [23]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Community: mission_insane, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-02
Updated: 2011-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorVFan10/pseuds/Jayden%20und%20Verwelkt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything tastes better with alcohol. At least, that's what the people in the bar always said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocoa With Vodka

Schuldig hated the cold. He hated the winter as well, now that he thought about it. The cold meant that Crawford drank twice as much coffee, leaving Schuldig without his caffeine fix. There was a bunch of sugar loaded energy drinks and soda in the fridge, but Schuldig hated soda and feared he would end up in a diabetic coma if he had one of those energy drinks; he didn't like tea, so that wasn't an option—the only tea he liked was a Long Island iced tea, and that had nothing to do with tea. There was water, of course, but Schuldig only drank that when he was hungover.

He slammed the fridge door closed and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, annoyed at how little there was in the fridge period except for the twenty-four pack of beer and the pitcher of water. Nagi entered the room just as Schuldig began muttering in German about how Crawford was a lazy bastard, and how dare he drink all the coffee and not bother to buy more, the cheap bastard. Nagi simply shook his head and went straight for the hot cocoa mix.

"Hot chocolate is a good coffee substitute," Nagi said as he put water into the tea kettle. Though his German wasn't the best, he could make out enough of what Schuldig was complaining about.

 _Yeah, but it's not coffee_. "Hot chocolate is like coffee for people who don't want to drink coffee and enjoy the sweet bitter taste it offers." Schuldig did not approve of taking the wimpy way out.

"I'll add some leftover vodka to yours to give it…a 'kick'," Nagi offered as he went about making the mix telekinetically. Schuldig shrugged.

"After all, don't you always say, 'Everything tastes better with alcohol in it'?"

Schuldig scoffed. "I don't, but the people down at the bar do. They're alcoholics, though."

Nagi grabbed the vodka from the counter and added it to Schuldig's mug, followed by boiling hot water and cocoa mix.

"Doesn't that mean you're an alcoholic as well?"

Schuldig took his mug and glared at Nagi.  _I'm not an alcoholic_ , he said telepathically, taking a sip of his hot vodka cocoa. It burned his throat, but that was how Schuldig liked most of his beverages.

"If you're not an alcoholic, then I'm Crawford's son," Nagi said, sitting down at the table with a mug of his own.

"Well, you could be. He'd had to've banged and knocked up a chick when he was twelve, though, but it's possible." He laughed. "Just think, you could've been the child of Crawford and Sylvia."

 _Who's Sylvia?_

"Some bitch Crawford and I knew back in Rosenkreuz. She was gone by the time you were enrolled."

"Ah," Nagi said, and then took a sip of hot chocolate.

"You know, I think those drunks at the bar are right, though. Everything _does_  taste better with alcohol." Schuldig stood from the chair, mug in hand, and raised his drink appreciatively. "Thanks, Nagichen." He left before Nagi could get pissed at the 'chen' suffix.

-x-

Crawford woke up around noon on his rare day off and shrugged on a bathrobe, wanting some breakfast first before heading into the shower and getting ready for the day ahead. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he had an idea. Maybe sit out on the balcony with that book he had for years and hadn't finished yet; he simply didn't have much time for it. He could work on that report to Eszett tomorrow.

He made his way into the kitchen and saw, on a large sheet of paper, a note taped to the front of the fridge. On the sheet of paper was a rudely written reminder in German that read thus:

 _Crawford—_

 _We're out of coffee, don't know if you knew that or not—you probably did since you're A) a fucking precognitive and B) you were the one who drank it all—but in any case we're out and instead of doing the right thing you decided to just not buy more. You cheap and lazy bastard. Go buy more. I had to drink fucking hot cocoa with vodka in it that Nagi made just so I could get that buzz I wanted._

The neat German handwriting and crude language could only mean it was Schuldig's. Crawford shook his head and threw out the reminder. Schuldig could complain all he wanted, but he couldn't tell him what to do. He went in the small freezer and took out a package of waffles.

 _God forbid he actually do something himself._


End file.
